


Californian Car Crash

by Leidolette



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 19:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12588692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leidolette/pseuds/Leidolette
Summary: Rachel's a mess. But that's not really so bad, all in all, Marco figures.





	Californian Car Crash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [interabang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/interabang/gifts).



Unsurprisingly, Rachel looked good even as rage-spittle flew out of her face. 

The phone video was a little shaky, but the quality was there, and the camera clearly caught the moment when a line of thick fur sprouted along her spine down to the edge of the low-backed cocktail dress she wore. Four-inch long claws erupted from her fingers as she used them to count down the number of seconds the paparazzo in front of her had to get out of her face. She had barely folded down one curved claw before he was off and running. 

It was a stupid thing for her to do, but Marco laughed as the TV program replayed the clip twice more. 

**You're on TMZ again,** he texted Rachel. 

His phone buzzed immediately with her response. **And you're watching TMZ again. So which one of us is more pathetic, really?**

Feeling like she scored a point, Marco flicked the channel over to some infomercial trying to sell him the fork of the future. Ah, the wonders of daytime television. 

His phone buzzed again. **And if you're going to lecture me, don't even bother. My mom's been chewing my ear off all morning.**

Jake really should be the one doing the lecturing, Marco thought bitterly. Like anyone could get Jake to do much of anything, these days. Amazing how ordering your cousin to kill your brother could take the wind out of your sails -- even though, by some miracle, Rachel had survived. 

Survived, but not thrived. This wasn't the first time Rachel had gotten in trouble for something stupid, or embarrassed the Animorphs in public. 

But those thoughts were old wounds that Marco had given up on. Instead he wrote: **Come on, does that sound like me?**

And it was true, because the shit he'd said to Rachel during the war had been too harsh to really be called a lecture. He'd called her reckless, blood thirsty, a violence junkie. And she had been all those things, at her worst. He had wanted to strangle her sometimes, when she would risk the mission for some fucking power trip.

But things were different now. If Rachel wanted to go out and get in fights with punks outside of clubs, who cared? The fate of the world wasn't at stake anymore, just the Animorphs' reputation. And Marco had never given a shit about that that, as long as they would still let him on Letterman. 

**Come over and hang here,** he texted her impulsively. They weren't really the 'hangout' kind of friends (if any of them really were friends now, after everything), but suddenly he wanted to see her very badly.

That violent part of Rachel that had developed during the war had never really shut off. Even with no battles and no enemies, her rage and recklessness bubbled to the surface in sporadic gouts. She got in fights, crashed her motorcycle, disappeared for weeks at a time. Cassie had even told him a while back that Rachel was trying to convince the Andalites to bring her along on one of the ships sent out to hunt and destroy the last of the Yeerk hold-outs. 

Rachel was going to get herself killed one of these days seeking that adrenaline rush. Fine. Marco supposed that they had all known that for a while. That didn't mean they couldn't chill by the pool for a while like the bored twenty-somethings they were. Borrowed time was better than nothing.

His phone vibrated. **Thanks, Marco, but when hanging out with you starts to look like an attractive option, I'll get my head checked.**

Marco upped his game. He sent her a photo of his pool, blue and sparkling in the early afternoon sun, and then a strawberry daiquiri he whipped up real quick. A taste for the finer things had always been something they'd had in common. **You can hide from your mom,** he wrote, to sweeten the pot. **Bring your bikini.** He added a couple obnoxious emojis and then sent it off on the heels of the picture.

Marco's phone didn't buzz this time. His response came in the form of a bald eagle swooping to land on his patio furniture an hour later.

**Author's Note:**

> A little late, but Happy Halloween!


End file.
